I'm Sorry, But I'm Not In Love With You
by wikipedias
Summary: AU. Welcome to college, where Dylan's a slut, Kristen's a Twihard, Massie's still chanelling Blair Waldorf, Alicia's a weakling and Claire's utterly clueless.
1. Hottie

**Title: **I'm Sorry, But I'm Not In Love With You  
**Summary: **AU. As soon as Claire beamed up at him, Cam decided to die. Clairington. Cassie.  
**Word Count: **oh who the hell cares?! It's actually: 1052 words...I think.  
**Inspirations: **Fall Out Boy; Lisa Yee; _Friends; _Hot N' Cold - Katy Perry  
**Song to Listen to: **Lying is The Most Fun A Girl A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic at the Disco  
**Interesting Fact #1: **Even though I abhor the song I Kissed The Girl for being insanely catchy, Katy Perry's actually a good singer.  
**Interesting Fact #2: **Imagine the setting as _Friends_. You know, the two apartments?  
**Dedicated To: **My fellow New Yo'hkers. "Yuh, hunay, us New Yo'hkers gotta stick togetha, huh?"

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

_You're in then you're out  
You're up then you're down  
You're wrong when it's right  
It's black and it's white  
We fight, we break up  
We kiss, we make up_

- - - - -

"I can't do this anymore, man!" Cam complained to Derrick, flopping heavily onto their elongated chaise, the only thing not covered in cardboard and/or bubblewrap. He closed his eyes as the extreme comfort of the cashmere – or something extremely soft, anyway – overtook his senses.

"Do what?" Derrick mumbled, barely looking up from his Playboy-hidden-behind-textbooks.

Cam kicked his knee. "You effin' well know _what_."

"Quite sure I don't, dude," Derrick raised his eyebrows at one picture and muttered, "Wrong angle…change the elevation…"

Momentarily distracted by his roommate's choice of words, Cam asked what he was doing so intensely.

"Trying to make this apartment look more spacious, dude. I know mirrors can make it look more…_open_ but it needs something else. Like, maybe white? But, hey, maybe the whole minimalist look was too much for The Shack…" Derrick mumbled off, staring into space.

Inside Cam's brain, he felt guilty. Derrick wasn't reading Playboy after all. He was trying to make their junk-filled flat look like a College Student's dream apartment.

_Knock, knock, tap_.

"I'll get it." Derrick got up and made his way through the jungle called The Shack, avoiding the huge boxes and the LV suitcases.

Cam's eyes snapped open. That was Claire's knock. _Claire's_ knock. That meant she was here. _Crud_! He got up and ran into one of the overcrowded rooms. _She can't be here_! Whipping out his Samsung faster than Michael Phelps swimming a width, he quickly texted to Derrick:

IF ITS CLAIRE, IM NOT HERE. SAY IM CMING L8ER

There was no time for spell-check, his life was in an emergency.

- x -

Back in the hallway, Derrick opened the door with a flourish, "Yes?"

"Um, hi, I'm Claire. Claire Lyons. Does Cam Fisher live here? I'm his - his girlfriend." A petite blonde smiled nervously, her pale arms gripping the straps of her backpack.

Before Derrick could respond to the, _very _attractive, blonde, his phone buzzed. "Hold that thought, blondie." He reached for his Blackberry and scanned the text.

Claire bristled at the 'blondie' nickname. After all, _he_ was a blonde, too. As soon as Derrick tapped the last something into the mobile, she asked, slightly disgruntedly, "Well?"

"Sorry, no. He's out 'cause he got stampeded by a horde of prostitutes on his way here," Derrick lied smoothly. "But, _I'm _here, blondie and I have _all_ the time in the world for you...what's your name again?"

Claire rolled her eyes at his attempts at flirting, refusing to be entranced by this light brown-eyed cheesy disc jockey-type. "Claire Lyons. What's yours?"

"_Hottie_." Derrick leaned into her. Claire stepped back. "But most people call me Derrick Harrington."

"Nice to meet you," she replied stiffly. "When Cam arrives, will you please let me know? I have something to tell – I mean, _give_ him." Claire's rigid demeanor melted a bit as she remembered what she came here for.

"How?"

"How, what?"

"How will I let you know, blondie?"

"My name's _Claire_. C-L-A-I-R-E. And…you could e-mail me?"

"No can do, _blondie_. My laptop's fried. It saw a Windows Vista and fell in love _but she crushed his motherboard_." That was a lie, of course. His new MacBook Pro was excellent to the highest degree but there no way was he letting this _blonde _chick leave without getting her number. It would be an insult to his _very _colourful history.

Claire looked and felt frustrated but she gave her number anyway, despite her conscience shouting at her that it was a bad idea to give her number to Cam's obviously crazy roommate.

As Derrick stored her number, she asked the obvious. "What about yours?"

"What about mine?"

"Your number?"

"Oh. Ye-_ahhh_, about that..." It was against his policy on girls to give his number on the first meeting but, this was _Claire_; and she was taken by _the _boring ol', whiny, weirdly-eyed Cam Fisher, for Pete's sake! Cammie-boy wouldn't let his girl, or _any _girl, call Derrick Harrington, hottie-extraodinaire!

Claire looked wary and raised one eyebrow, "Yes? What _about_ your number?"

"…Nothing. Listen." Derrick whispered his number rapidly so the women ( and men ) passing in the hallway couldn't hear. Who knows – they could all be after him and his body.

"Thanks, Harrington." Claire said dryly as she reached for his door and closed it to leave. "Please tell Cam I called?"

"Sure thing, _BLONDIE_!" Derrick yelled gleefully before slamming the door in her mixture-of-shock-and-amusement face.

From inside the overcrowded museum – no apartment, Cam crept out cautiously. "Is she gone?" He whisper-yelled.

"YES, CAM FISHER, SHE HAS _LEFT _THE BUILDING! AND SHE WAS _VERY_ PRETTY AND _BLONDE_ AND WHY ARE YOU _AVOIDING_ HER? THAT'S NOT A VERY GOOD _BOYFRIEND _THING TO DO!" Derrick yelled, even more gleefully, if that was possible given his current volume.

"_Shhhh!_" Cam panicked, flapping his hands in the air. "She'll _hear _you!"

From outside the door, they heard a slight sob and the patter of sneakers hitting the floor quickly.

Cam ran his hand over his face dejectedly and flopped onto the ground. "Thanks a lot, moron. She'll either give me hell for this or tell Massie."

"Sure, no prob, buddy. Want a beer?"

"I hate you."

- - - - -  
**A/N: **Yes! I _will_ update this because I rather like this story! Consider all my other stories on hiatus, they're all just parodies are just nonsensical typos waiting to be laughed at :)  
**A/N: **Edited the typos. Added a peppering of words and sense. Lovely-jubbly reviews. Simply lovely :)


	2. Coffee

Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

As Derrick drained the last of his coffee, taking care to throw the cup at the back of Cam's head, he sighed. Not only did Claire give him a fake number, which was totally uncalled for, by the way, his date for the night stood up on him! Who the hell stands up Derrick Harrington? Stupid Alicia Rivera, she didn't know what she's missing…

As Derrick snorted over life's irony-ness, Cam tried to wipe the coffee dregs off his Mac. While dabbing at the now-ultra brown stain on his spotless computer, he thought about Claire Lyons and how he was going to break up with her.

It had to be slow, of course. And subtle. He could keep ignoring her until she finally cracked and broke up with _him_. But that would make him seem like a pansy. And _Cam Fisher is not a pansy_.

"Is too…" Derrick mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing…" Derrick tapped his fingers against the comforting hardness of the Mac. He didn't bother telling Cam that sometimes Cam spoke aloud to himself. It was hilarious when he find out many of Cam's secrets on his own and it just made it _that _much more interesting to use it against him later.

Getting fed up with this uselessness, mainly from Derrick, Cam got up and stretched. "I'm going to bed," he announced, "Don't wait up for me."

"Like I was going to!" Derrick shouted to his retreating figure. "And don't touch the –", there was a resounding crash, "– giant suitcase…"

"Sorry!" Cam yelled, before slamming his bedroom door and making another suitcase fall down and open its guts of outfits.

"Moron!" Derrick yelled back. Throwing his hands in the air, he decided to kill Cam once he finished his ninja training and his PhD in How to Seduce Sluts Without Paying Them.

- - - - -


	3. Dusty

Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

"_Claire_!" Massie Block, resident 'alpha' of the current most popular college in the US of A, UCLA, yelled. "Where's my curler?!"

Claire rolled her eyes and shouted back, "Check your thousand and one suitcases, Massie!" She paused before yelling, "And _no_, I don't have it! I don't even _use _curlers!"

_Too true_. Kristen Gregory mumbled, looking at her Christian Dior watch. "Can we go _now_?" she whined to the direction of Massie and Alicia's closed door.

Seeing as they all had to live together on campus, Massie and Alicia quickly selected the 'alpha and beta' room while the other three, Claire, Kristen and Dylan Marvil, had to take the 'lowlife room'. It didn't bother the three girls that much until they realized that Massie and Alicia had the giant window that was directly in front of the boys' dorm building.

"In a _minute_ – oh look, my curler! _Ew_, who hid it behind Leesh's night dress?!" Massie squealed from behind the door. "And why we're on the topic of LBRs, Dyl, can you be a darling and drive the three of you to UCLA? Alicia and I have to prep, _tout suite_!"

"Yeah, sure," Dylan chewed her granola bar slowly, "Class is in 10 minutes, though."

"What_ever_! Just _go_!" Alicia replied as she stepped out of the steaming bathroom/sauna. "Wait – rate me first!"

"You're in a _towel_," Claire observed as she got down on her knees to look for her canvas tote. It had been lost ever since she forgot to help find Massie's iPhone.

"Doesn't mean I'm not hot," Alicia flipped her hair-encased-in-a-towel, which in turn causing her whiplash.

"8 point 3," Kristen mumbled in a very Derrick-esque fashion. "You're still _naked_, no matter what…"

"Point!" Alicia stuck her finger in the air quickly, before Dylan could parody it again. It was embarrassing the last time, it would be embarrassing this time.

"Why do you _still _do that?" Dylan said disgustedly. "It's _so _middle school."

"Whatevs," Massie said before Alicia could say something. She didn't want another bitch fight again. Stepping out from their 'alpha' room, her mind was set on one thing and one thing only. Getting at _least _a 9.2 from her girls. "Rate _me_."

"9 point 6!" Alicia shrieked before the rest of them could even look up. "I _heart _those flats. _J'adore _those skinnies and _oh em gee, _I love your blazer! Pure fabulous!"

Massie smirked smugly. "Thanks, Lee_ch_."

The girls laughed while Alicia huffed. "Hey, I'm just saying how it is, okay?"

"Still," Claire emerged from her quest, looking slightly harassed, holding a dusty semi-brown tote bag. "Don't go so _overboard_."

"Aren't you three supposed to be _gone_?" Massie sniped on Alicia's behalf. She _liked _it when people went all 'overboard' for her.

"Oh. Yeah. 'Bye, then!" Dylan grabbed her two roommates and dragged them outside.

As the door slammed their leaving, Massie rolled her eyes. "_So _annoying, sometimes."

"_Si_." Alicia mumbled as she looked in every oneof her suitcases, which was indeed a feat on its own, considering the amount of Tuttis' there were, for her 'first-day-at-school-_don't_-call-me-a-freshman' outfit while holding her towel securely.

"Want a ride?" Massie adjusted her purple hairband over her post-curler hair.

"That'd be wonderful," Alicia sighed contently.

"Too bad!" Massie snickered as she dashed out of the dorm.

"_Massie_!" All Alicia got back in return was a ghostly trickle of laughter and the tapping of flats hitting the glossy wooden floor.

- - - - -

I'll have you all lovely-jubblies know, rather than later, that:

a) the girl in 'About a Girl' is a slut, or a prostitute, and WB can do better  
b) i'm extremely lazy and busy so updates will remain...weekly?  
c) this will portray several characters in a bad light, so if you like those characters a lot, i'm sorry.  
d) i've recently become in lust. are you all in seriously crushing mode? O.o

- - - - -


	4. Breezy

Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

"Hey Claire?" Kristen shielded her eyes from the harsh California sun and asked, "Can I borrow your brush?"

Retrieving it from her bag, Claire threw the rhinestone-covered brush to Kristen with the skill of a blind person. It hit Dylan on the head, who then promptly pretended to pass out. She fell on the floor and everything.

Kristen laughed as Claire started apologizing profusely. Claire was still the nicest in the group…

"Owww," Dylan muttered as Claire helped her to get up. "Oh no!" she suddenly shrieked. "My dress!"

Her pre-falling Alexander McQueen dress was a moody green, soft to the touch and short. Her post-falling Alexander McQueen dress was the colour of dirty-trees, dusty and uber-short.

Three freshmen passed their group, two boys and a girl, and quickly erupted in laughter. Dylan's face transformed to the colour of her Hayley William's-hair. _No_! _Stop laughing at me_!

"Oh no, redhead, we're not laughing at you!" One of the boys, wearing a Chicago Bulls Tee, called. "It was something _Layne_ said!"

Claire squinted at the short brunette. "Layne Abeley?"

"Claire Lyons?!" The girl shrieked. Her dark brown hair went flying as she ran over to Claire. "_Claire_! You go to UCLA, too?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I didn't think it was important! _Layne_!" They hugged excitedly, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Dylan, Kristen and the unnamed boys just stared at the giggling girls before introducing themselves.

"I'm Chris Abeley and this is Harris Fisher. We're seniors."

"I'm Kristen Stewart, no Gregory. Yes, I'm Kristen Gregory and I love Twilight. No, I hate Twilight! Dammit, what's wrong with me?!" Kristen suddenly ran off, tripping slightly on account of her heels.

"…I'm Dylan Marvil. The normal one."

"From what I can see," Harris checked out her legs, "You're the dirty one."

"Oh, haha, very funny, you –" Dylan made the mistake of looking into his eyes. His _very_ green eyes…almost like her dress…but hotter somehow…tree? No, definitely not _trees_…

Suddenly realizing her incessant staring, she jumped and followed Kristen 'Stewart' Gregory with a squeak, "'Bye, guys!"

Harris stared bemusedly at Dylan's running form out before turning to Chris who was staring bemusedly at Layne and Claire. The girls seemed to be insisting on talking really fast at the same time.

As soon as one of drew breath, Harris didn't care who, he stuck his foot in, "Layne!"

She looked up from the ground; she was showing Claire all the feathers she stuck on her Vans, "Yeah?"

"Care to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh, yeah! Silly me! Hey, Claire? Meet Harris! Claire's my pen-friend! I met her on a website on school suckage! In tenth grade! "

"Harris…Fisher?" Claire asked uncertainly. She didn't look into his eyes; she noticed how Dylan had spaced out and ran off.

"Hey," he nodded at her, "Aren't you Cammie's girlfriend?"

"Um…maybe?" Claire didn't want to lie about her relationship with Cam to Harris – this was Cam's brother! His _older _brother! His _hotter _brother! – so, instead she said, "I'm trying to break up with him…"

Chris laughed, "That's easy. Just date Harris! Everyone wants to hate him!"

Harris hit him on the back of his head and surveyed Claire. "You want to break up with Cammie?"

"I'm sorry," Claire began miserably, "But he's _so_ flaky and annoying and he never shows up on dates and, and, and I'm _this_ sure that he's in love with another girl…"

Harris shook his head, "Oh no worries! I don't care if you break up with him at all; hell, I insist that you do! I haven't had the pleasure of making him miserable yet!"

Layne and Claire exchanged a 'WTF is wrong with this guy look' while Chris shook his head knowingly. "Ah, Harry, always being the idiot…"

"It's in my blood," Harris grinned, showing his platinum-bright teeth. Harris had battled his parents against his heritage for ten years. In his mind, they were all just reject hippies forcing him to conform to 'The Man' and going to good schools and crap.

Claire's eyes widened at Harris's blatant discrimination of his parents while Layne's eyes rolled. "You're such a pansy, Harry," Layne slapped the back of his head. "No wonder Skye broke up with you!"

"Nah, she broke up with me 'cause Massie declared me 'out' or something…on that website of hers..."

"You know Massie?" Claire asked.

"Who _doesn't _know Block?" Chris smirked. "All the guys have dated her, right?"

"All the 'HART' guys, at least." Harris sniggered.

"You know about the acronyms?" Claire asked, fully realizing she was overusing 'you know'. But she couldn't help it! UCLA was chock full of incredibility and weirdos' and stuff-I-never-knew-about. And people like Harris Fisher.

Layne giggled and said, "Oh, sorry, I just let it slip what your friends called 'suitable boys to date' to Chris. We couldn't stop giggling at it. Sorry!"

"Men don't _giggle_!" Chris swatted her head. (Must be a trend, Claire mused.) "We _snigger_!"

"Oh suuuure, and that time we watched _White Chicks_, you didn't giggle _at all _when they blew the powder!"

Harris laughed. "Yeah, she's got you there, dude. You _did _giggle!"

"I did _not_!"

"Did, too!"

"Did –" Claire's watch beeped, signaling that there was ten minutes to class. It was a trick her Dad taught her and she found it as useful as hell. Especially whenever Massie wanted her daily coffee rush.

"Ten minutes to class. Crap. Gotta go, guys."

"Wait – gimme your number, at least!" Harris took out his Samsung.

"Okay." Claire gave him her _real _number this time, hoping to God he wasn't a 'player' like Derrick.

"What about _us_?" The Abeleys' pouted. "Don't you want ours?".

Claire laughed breezily – they had that effect on people, she thought – and recorded their numbers. "Okay, now I seriously gotta go. Bye!" She hurried off, slipping her Motorola into her tote.

"I like her," Harris and Chris announced. Layne smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Good. I like her, too."

"Wait – aren't we going to be late for class, too?"

"Oh sh - !" All three of them scampered, banging into the various students on their way to class.

- - - - -

Just so you know, I'm writing in the omniscient-third-point-of-view. So, there's going to be some cynical comments in it and some other PoVs. Just so you know.

And, a shoutout to:

technicolor twists: you! no! hsm sucks! yeah! you! :D  
dr. pepper. rocks. my. socks: you! i updated! yeah! :D

- - - - -


	5. Telly

Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

"Hello and welcome to UCLA's Next Top Bitch. I mean, Skank. No, sorry guys, but it's 'apparently' UCLA's hottest show: _School Sucks, So We Broadcast Stuff_. Or in short: 12629. Now say that really fast to the next person you see."

The camera taping Joshua Hotz shook, causing Josh to appear seriously out-of-focus, because the cameraman, Kemp Hurley, was laughing too much to stand still.

"_Kemp_!" Olivia Ryan, director of the 'hottest show' 12629, nudged him painfully with her sharp left elbow. "You're _live_! On _TV_!" Olivia added, as though he had no idea a whole crowd had surrounded them and almost the entire population of the university were watching them in the hallways or at their dorms and sororities.

"Sorry, 'Liv," he mouthed to her before 'straightening his act' – as Olivia had once put it when he was on drugs and had to be admitted to the same rehab Lohan went to – and started taping normally.

Josh sniggered and told the rapt audience surrounding them and the viewers on campus, "That was my cameraman and director flirting on TV like the fools they are but, let's get on to bigger and sluttier things. For example, Delta Nu freshman captain voting time," he stopped to let the girls cheer and the guys yawn and talk about _Grand Theft Auto _and college chicks.

When the females of the group stopped clapping, he continued, "Yup, you heard me right; it's time to vote for this year's Delta Nu's freshman captain. And according to Skye Hamilton, senior slut, or sources tell me, senior _captain_, you have to be over 5"5, have good _ass_ets and be a member of Delta Nu for over three weeks to be allowed to vote. Which I think is a long enough time to get implants and liposuction, huh?"

Olivia and Kemp sniggered before returning to their previous stance. Josh grinned and continued, "Because I'm forced to by my Media Studies Professor, let's go and see which cow is voting which cow as their leader. And oh joy. Someone's playing 'Gimme More' on repeat to brighten up life here in our voting gymnasium. It's probably Cam Fisher."

More sniggers erupted from the absorbed crowd. It was common for Cam's close friends to publicize his 'feminity' in various ways. Or, at least, that's what Derrick said when they had put posters of Cam's face on K-Fed's when he and Britney were together. It proved to be a hit amongst the guys. They still called him C-Fish when they met him.

Turning the camera to face the voting commotion, Kemp panned out of Josh's face and zoomed to the tens of ballot boxes. Hundreds of girls – or around that much anyway, no-one knew how many girls were exactly in Delta Nu 'cause they all looked the same anyway – were dithering at the voting ballots and wondering who to vote.

Josh sauntered over to one of them. A thin-to-be-almost-anorexic girl looked up when she heard the crowd chattering and she immediately dropped her vote page. _MASSIE: YES _stared up at the viewers as Kemp zoomed in on the hot pink leaflet.

"Hello, you're on _School Sucks, So We Broadcast Stuff _and why the hell are you voting for Massie? What's your name anyway?" Josh raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow. Olivia had once told him it made him look more stupid than ever but he knew that whatever she said, it was better as the opposite.

"Um…" the brunette kept opening and closing her mouth and adjusting her purple tank until even Josh took pity on her. "I KNOW YOU DATED KANYE WEST!"

The girl looked up abruptly, her eyes widening. "Wh-what?"

"Aha! So she speaks! I'm Josh Hotz, by the way. And you're live. On 12629!" He spoke the numbers faster than the rest of the sentence and was met with laughter and applause from the spectators.

"L-live?" Her eyes widened even more; she was blatantly oblivious to what Josh had said about the numbers.

"No, I'm Josh," he sounded confused. "Aren't you going to my answer my question?"

"What question?" she sounded a bit braver when she realized he was an utter, but still totally hot, idiot.

"Why're you voting Massie Block? And what's your name anyway? And why're the prices of cheese skyrocketing?"

"Because she's _Massie_?" she replied, hoisting her leather Prada shoulder bag higher up as she kneeled to pick up her leaflet. "She's, like, the _genius_ of high-fashion. And boys, can't forget the boys."

"So she says!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"Aha! A skeptic! WHO ARE YOU? ARE YOU FEMALE? WE SHOULD TALK!" Josh shouted to the audience. He turned back to the girl but discovered she was scuttling back to her skimpily-clad clique as fast her bright pink heels would allow her. They all blew kisses to Josh or the camera and made their tube tops droop lower as Kemp taped them.

"Oh foo. Anyways, that's all what I have time for because I'm going to be late for Journalism! Crap!" Josh shouted several other expletives as he pushed through the crowd but for the show's PG-13 sake, Olivia ordered Kemp to make a beeping sound with one of the many, many buttons on the camera whenever Josh opened his mouth.

"Hey, thanks guys! Really awesome today! See you next time!" Olivia cried sweetly to the now-mostly-male admiring crowd. "I'm just going to edit this so you all sound a bit less louder, 'kay?"

The crowd nodded their assent and started thinning as they made their way to Starbucks, class or still-going-on frat parties.

"Phew, Josh's really being crack today…" Kemp stared after Josh's skinny racing figure. He watched as Josh pushed past two also-running girls and got consequently pushed over. Kemp laughed at the scene and turned to face Olivia.

The second he turned, Olivia hit him on the back of his head and ordered him to pick up all the cables and wires and not to snap the coaxial cable with his Doc Martens again.

But as soon as Kemp went away, grumbling about forced labour and *censored*ing wires – her tough-demeanor faded away and her bubbly, oblivious side came back. "Oh _Kem_pie! Remember to meet us at Starbucks tonight! 'Kay? 'Round 6-ish!" She clapped her manicured hands together and skipped off with her numerous keychains dangling off her bag making a shingle racket.

Kemp just stared after and wondered what the hell was wrong with her. If Josh was on crack, Olivia was bipolar.

- - - - -

I should be listening to music in my room. Because renovation is happening and everything's dusty. But I isn't. I are postin dhis becuz its sundai 2dai. Yah.

I'm also borrowing ideas, themes, nouns, yadda yadda from _Legally Blonde_. Love that movie. I was going to name the University CULA but because of a typo I didn't. So foo.

I'm even posting faster! I'm almost finished with Ch. 6 as well! Hell, yes!

- - - - -


	6. Tappy

- - - - -

Massie grinned. Plan A was finally starting to take place.

After class, she would finally get payback on George Really-hard-to-pronounce-surname. According to US magazine, he had cheated on her with that slut Camilla something so she'd do the exact same.

Except that, this time, she wouldn't do it in a janitor's closet but smack middle in the center of campus, where she had ordered the paparazzi to be stationed.

Now all she needed to know who the lucky guy would be.

She had already recruited Dylan as beta #2 with the promise of getting back at Alicia for insulting her in front of jocks. Dylan would get a heated make-out session with Josh Hotz and Massie would get…

Cam? Nah, Claire already moaned about how flaky he was; she'd just cry if word got out Massie seduced him.

Kemp? Ew. _It's not like _I _wanna get raped by afro dude wonder…_

Derrick? Possible. He did mention that one time on IM he was single. And she did break up with him for that other Chris Something-or-the-other in eleventh grade…

Massie tapped her bottom lip with her purple sparkle pen and wondered what to wear after class.

- - - - -

I hate the Jonas Brothers

- - - - -


	7. Meanie

- - - - -

Cam ran his fingers through his dark hair as their professor signaled the end of class. It had been a busy class for him, full of admonishing and frantic note copying.

"Remember to bring your stationery and laptop, next time, Mr. Fisher. I'd hate to deduct your grade due to your unfortunate absentmindedness," his teacher, Mrs. Carter, had told him snidely when he had told her Derrick had stolen all his belongings from his JanSport.

Mrs. Carter, like all teachers, ignored Derrick's mention as it was common knowledge that his father was a generous alumnus and had donated a considerable sum to the Architectural Department.

Cam grimaced when his mismatched eyes wandered down the circular aisle, seeing Derrick waving furiously at him while grinning from ear-to-ear. "Yo, Cam! Wanna grab a bite to eat?" he shouted, ignoring the fact that the round, mostly-oak-and-mahogany room echoed everything that was loud to an even more impressive resonance.

As he got up and walked down the stairs to the bigger entrance, while shaking his head ruefully, Cam responded in the negative. "Nah, can't. Gotta unpack some more clothes; can't keep wearing the same jeans for two days…oh and yeah, I'd also like my crap back. You know, all the pens, the erasers, the rulers and my _Mac_!"

"Like what back?" Derrick asked vaguely, reaching the foot of the stairs, too, his mind – and eyes – already set on a certain blonde, along with a midget brunette, passing their lecture room. "Hey! You're Claire!"

Cam blanched and hid behind the nearest thick thing – this time it was a pretty, heavyset girl called Anile Merry. "Sorry, Ann, I'm just really, really scared," he whispered to her dark red angora sweater.

Anile shrugged and went back to her Sidekick. "Gotta to get to class, anyway, dude. Just don't pull any of the threads, okay? My Mom forced this on me and who knows what'd she say if a _thread _had gone missing…"

Seeing Claire's deer-trapped-in-headlights look, Derrick pointedly looked back at Cam, or rather Anile, who seemed to be talking to herself, and shouted, "HEY C_AAA_M! _CLAIRE'S_ OUTSIDE! DON'T YOU WANNA SEE HER? OR SHOULD I TELL HER YOU'RE HIDING BEHIND ANILE? I THINK SHE KNOWS BY NOW, THOUGH! SHE'S _RIGHT HERE_!"

Cam slapped his face with his hand, palm side up, and ran to the other entrance. (Every lecture room had two doors located on the opposite side of each other – the school's brochure stated that it made it easy for fire escape. The unofficial school handbook – sold for ten dollars in the hallway – stated that it was for students to cut class more easily.)

He banged open the door and slammed into a brunette talking animatedly to her earphone-plugged iPhone. "Excuse _you_, asshole!" she snapped, when her hand jostled and almost dropped the technology.

Cam shrugged apologetically, refusing to look up at anyone, and set off again, fleeing for the hills. Anile and the rest of the class, including Mrs. Carter, laughed with embarrassed looks on their faces, as though Cam had committed a seriously embarrassing faux-pas. And, in a way, he had: he had banged into Massie Block, another one of the wealthy alumni's children. The Blocks' were famous for suing everything they felt like needed to be sued thanks to their connection with the Riveras'.

Claire watched Cam scamper and Massie swear furiously with a peculiarly blank look on her usually animated face. "Yes, Harrington?" she finally said to Derrick's _I'm Not Gay, Just Seriously In Love with Feminine _T-shirt when Cam's figure wasn't visible anymore. She inwardly gritted her teeth when she realized everyone was taller than her. _Stupid, tall Californians…_

"You gave me the wrong number, blondie. What gives?" Derrick informed her, his trademark smirk ghosting onto his face. Maybe she was playing hard-to-get with the ol' Derrick Harrington…

"Nothing, Harrington. Nothing 'gives'…and don't call me_ blondie_!" She snapped, her apathetic mood quickly slipping into defensive anger.

He shrugged and let it pass. "So, what's your next class, what are you majoring in, did you watch the latest episode of _School Sucks_? Do you know the chick on TV? And just how old are you?"

Claire turned to her companion for backup but Layne had disappeared to the unknown – or rather Chris Pine and Star Trek, her latest obsessions. Shrugging it off, _maybe she's talking to Star Trekkers again_,Claire looked straight ahead and answered, "I have two hours 'til English Literature, I'm majoring in Journalism and yes, I watched the latest episode of _School Sucks_. No, I don't know the 'chick on TV' but she's in my dorm floor and I'm seventeen."

Derrick blinked. She actually understood him. He blinked again and cleared his throat, "…I'm seventeen, too. I'm majoring in Industrial Design, I love_ 12629_ and I have two hours until Design class. Wanna grab a bite to eat? I'll pay."

Claire bit her lip. Wasn't he the guy who thought everyone, including old women and straight men, was in love with his 'awesomeness'? Wasn't he the guy who lived with flaky Cam? Wasn't he the guy who hit on her a week ago?

Yes, yes, yes, he was all that but she was bored, not to mention kinda broke, until she found a job, and he was kinda funny under all the stupidity so she agreed.

He nodded eagerly, "I know a great place near here – it's called the Pink Elephant. Perfect place for Goth chicks – I mean, bread sticks. Yes, perfect place for bread sticks…"

"Hilarious, Harrington…" Claire mumbled, starting to second-guess her hasty decision.

"What do you think of Josh? That dude on _School Sucks_?" Derrick started walking straight ahead.

"Oh he's awesome – really funny!" Claire said animatedly, almost skipping every step as she tried to match his long-legged stride.

"Thanks," Josh said modestly, suddenly appearing from behind Claire. She shrieked and dropped all her books onto jock-like guys. ("Ouch! Shit! Blondie's got weapons!")

She apologized quickly and stooped down to gather all the books.

Grinning, Derrick slapped high-fives with Josh, "'Sup, dude!", and dropped down to help her pick up all her heavy textbooks.

Josh chuckled and patted Claire's head. "I _am_ a genius, aren't I?"

"Get away from me, you freak! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" she yelped when someone trod on her open notebook. "_Hey_!"

Claire glared at him from her position on the floor. Ignoring the "Hey! Move out of the way, midget!" shouts she was getting from behind her, she said angrily to him, "Can't you see where you're going, you idiot?! You just stepped on my Eng Lit notebook!"

The brunet ignored her and continued kissing his girlfriend while walking. Derrick applauded him silently – he didn't know anyone else who could do it apart from himself.

Josh, for Claire's benefit, gave the seriously-making-out couple 'the finger' and helped Claire get up, Derrick suddenly lumbered with all her books.

"Heading to lunch?" he asked conversationally to Claire.

Derrick stepped in smoothly, "Yeah, what's it to ya?"

"I'm really hunger."

"I'm really Derrick."

"Shaddup and start walking; I've only got an hour 'til the next broadcast…and I'm starved."

"Go to hell, Joshie; I've got _two_ hours and I intend to waste it with a girl! I mean, style!"

Claire rolled her eyes at the bickering 'young adults' – _please! Like they could even pass as _children_! _– while taking out her Motorola. Texting with one hand and using the other to lug all the books round,

WHERE R U? U VANISHED! :O

As they stepped out of the massive building and onto the campus, she got a reply:

CLAIRE-BEAR! HEY! W/ RIGHT NOW. SO SORRY BUT THIS ONE GUY HAS COMPLETE FIRST SEASON ON DVD. YAY!

Claire shook her head wonderingly, what was it with Layne's obsessions, and SMS-ed a smiley-face back. She looked up at the arguing 'young adults' but they still ignored the world and continued verbal abuse.

But, when hearing a "Josh, Derrick! Over here!" Josh and Derrick finally stopped their incessant bickering and quickly waved to a brunette and redhead standing nearby.

Massie and Dylan, wearing skimpy secretary-like outfits, made their way over to them with the saunter of professional models and the knowledge that every guy on campus grass was staring at them. Whispering/giggling, "Good luck, may the best bitch win," to each other, they quickly reached the threesome.

"Hey, Derrick, long time no see," Massie cooed sultry in his left ear.

"Uh…hey, Massie…" Derrick smiled bewilderedly. Didn't she break up with him in high school? Didn't she say that he should have gone to hell? Maybe. But judging by the way she was stroking his arm, maybe he had imagined the whole affair she had.

Claire blinked at this and waved half-heartedly at Dylan. "What's up with her?" she mouthed to Dylan but Dylan, too, was flirting with Josh, running her hands up and down his tanned arms. "I _loved _you on 12629, today, Josh. By the way, are you still together with Alicia?"

"Um…no…" Josh barely gave his answer a second thought as Dylan giggled and tossed her recently-straightened hair back, positively pressing her body against his arm.

Claire blinked again. Wasn't Massie dating that Greek heir dude? Didn't Dylan realize she was flirting with Alicia's ex? No, she realized as her best friends started taking each guy by the arm and dragging them in opposite directions with a "It'll take only a minute!"

She sighed despondently. Lunch-mates gone with best friends. Great. Just bloody great. Just like old times, she mused.

Having nothing better to do _but_ eat, she texted to Kristen and Alicia if they wanted to eat. Kristen replied:

CANT. AM ON DIET FOR SOCCER PRACTICE. SALAD W/NO DRESSING EVERYDAY :(

SRY, CANT. NEED 2 LOSE WEIGHT; AM TOO FAT!!!

Claire sighed at Kristen's dedication to soccer and Alicia's new obsession with her weight.

OKAY. JUST ASKING. THX ANYWAY!

Having no one familiar to eat with, she would _not _resort to asking Cam, not after how he acted, Claire texted to Chris and Harris:

I ASKED AL, KRIS & LAY TO HAVE LUNCH WITH ME. MASS & DYL R BUSY W/ JOSH&DERRICK. WANNA EAT AT MY PLACE? I'M 2 BORED 2 B ALONE.

She kept using short form as her boredom overpowered her. College was great until you were lonely. Then, it was like school all over again.

Chris replied first:

CAN'T, MA HOMIE. HAVING CLASS :P SENIOR YEAR SUCKS. CALL YOU AND LAYNE LATER.

Next was Harris:

YEA, SURE! YOUR PLACE? NAH. SICK OF DORMS AT THE MO. SOMEWHERE ELSE? I'LL PICK YOU UP :D

Claire smiled brightly, at least he was available. She quickly sent another smiley-face along with THX! I'M AT THE MAIN BUILDING.

Five minutes later, Harris and his BMW convertible with the hood down rolled in smoothly. "Hop in!" he shouted over the blaring of 'I Don't Care' by Fall Out Boy.

Claire grinned and opened the passenger seat door. "Hey, Harr – oh. Cam. Hi."

Cam was sitting in the back with a shocked expression on his once-handsome-to-Claire face. "Uh…"

She shook her head, mouthed "Not now," and sat down quickly.

Harris chuckled, a glint in his eye. Phase One complete. "We're eating at Pizza Hut," he declared and put the sleek car in gear.

Claire shrugged. She was still getting over the fact that Cam was right behind her, still saying nothing about his behavior in the past few days. Not even apologizing! She _knew_ she was going to break up with him and everything, Cam was too much of a coward to do it, but still! Who knew he was so rude!

She grumbled throughout the entire ten-minute ride, Harris grinning fondly at her and Cam staring out the window with a hopeless expression plastered on his face.

When they arrived, Harris decided to show Claire some legendary Fisher-charm. (He doubted Cam showed her much, clothes on or off.) Quickly turning off the engine, leaving the car and running to her seat, he opened it with the grace of Princess Diana. "After you, madam. And might I say, you _do _look beautiful today"

Claire giggled and stepped out, silently thanking Massie for forcing her yesterday to wear lime-green sandals, knee-length off-white shorts, an emerald green tank and a loose white bolero on top that kept slipping off her shoulder. Perfect casual outfit, Claire gushed in her mind.

Cam's eyes narrowed at this charming display; he knew Harris. Knew seventeen tortured years of him.

Harris only charmed girls when he wanted to make out, have sex or go in a hot tub with. And it was common knowledge that the girls didn't mind when he used them for the night.

_Get off my girlfriend_, he wanted to say but remembered that Claire was mad as hell at him and that he was supposed to be waiting for her to break up with him. He swore under his breath and got out of the car.

They quickly found an empty table, ordered a seafood combo with three Dr. Peppers' and settled down to chat. Or, at least, Harris did.

Claire was muttering at the fact that she was sitting opposite Cam and had a direct view of his once-perfect eyes. Cam was grumbling at the fact that he was sitting opposite Claire and that she was looking pretty today.

"So," Harris started, "Since Cam is a pansy. Claire. How old are you?"

Claire smiled; at least Cam was looking disgruntled, and answered, "Seventeen. You?"

"Twenty-one," he smiled. "Legal age to date you, huh?"

Claire and Cam's eyes widened at this and Harris received a kick to his shin, thanks to Cam's Nikes.

Claire heard Harris's muted yelp and flirted back, "Yup. Legal age. Even sex is fine by the law, huh? By the way, do you work out? You have really nice muscles,"

Harris's eyes widened but he grinned; one, he realized that Claire could look at his face without drooling and that was a first, he also realized that they were both seriously distressing Cam with their topic on bodies. He flexed his right arm, with black Tee easily displayed his well-defined physique (that's why he wore it).

"Thanks, Claire. Et tu? Do you work out? Your arms look very…smooth," Harris dropped his voice lower, making it much huskier and much hotter. (Or at least, that's what the waitress thought when she came to deliver their food. She spilt a bit of coke on Cam's shirt but he didn't even realize it. He was too busy alternately glaring at and kicking Harris.)

"I hate working out. Too much sweat…although Cam and I _used _to go out on walks a lot; there was sweat involved but I didn't mind it _then_," Claire said pointedly at Cam's direction.

"I like walks, too. So much to _do _when pesky parents aren't around fretting over you…" Harris winked suggestively at her while Cam's jaw dropped at the both of them. It was one thing to for Claire to talk about their now-non-existent private lives but it was another for Harris to insinuate what _he_ did when he went on 'walks'. Especially to naive _Claire_.

"And do you? Go on _walks _a lot?" Claire blinked her blue eyes at him, looking as innocent as she did at twelve.

"That's enough!" Cam stood up abruptly, his anger finally getting the best of him. "C'mon, Claire! We're leaving."

Harris ignored him and leaned closer to her, "Wanna go on one now?"

She appeared dazed and, with her voice dropping lower as well, murmured to Cam, "No, hon, that's okay. You go on ahead and chase Massie…"

Cam shook his head disgustedly, were all girls stupid when it came to Harris, and when did he chase Massie?, sure she was pretty and everything but…argh! He grabbed his messenger bag and not bothering to say "'Bye," left.

"That was brilliant, Lyons!" Harris burst out when Cam's dramatic departure was immortalized by the swinging exit door.

"You weren't too bad yourself! Smooth arms! That was _hilarious_ but the _'wanna go on a walk with me_?'" She laughed. He really was a pro at this. "_That_, now _that_, was pure brilliance!"

"I wasn't lying, Claire." He unleashed the power of his green eyes at her, forcing her to stare at them. _Haha, no one can resist this!_

"Oh…um…uh…let's eat!" Claire was resorted to saying. _Walks…_pfft. Later, she would feel bad for treating Cam the way she had, she knew even Massie wouldn't – no wait. Massie would. So if Massie did the same thing, it was okay, right? Right?!

Harris grinned and reached for his can of coke, "_Itekidamesu_!"

"Um…bless you?"

"No," Harris chuckled. "I wasn't sneezing, Lyons. I was trying to say 'Cheers' in Japanese. Don't think it sounded good, huh?"

Claire laughed and reached for a large slice of pizza. He was really fun to hang out with. Once you got over his supermodel-worthy looks, his blatant flirting and that he had to ruin Cam's life every once in a while, he could really make you laugh.

As they chatted and occasionally flirted, she got and ignored four texts:

Layne:

CLAIRE! WHERE R U? U WERE SUPPOSED 2 MEET ME AT 2:00!

Chris:

HEY CLAIRE. SEEN HARRIS? HE WAS SUPPOSED TO MEET ME AN HOUR AGO.

Alicia:

DO U KNOW WHAT DYLAN DID?! SHE MADE OUT WITH JOSH! MADE OUT WITH HIM! I HATE HER!!!!! 2NITE MEET ME IN YOUR ROOM. I'M GONNA TELL MASSIE THAT DYLAN AND HER CAN SLEEP IN THEIR SHITTY ROOM!

Kristen:

OMG. AL'S GONNA NUKE DYLAN & MASSIE (LIKE THAT'S POSSIBLE). APPARENTLY DYLAN & MASSIE MADE OUT WITH DERRICK AND JOSH ON CAMPUS GROUND FOR TEN MINUTES. IN FRONT OF THE PRESS!!! REMEMBER HOW AL WAS SUPPOSED TO GO OUT WITH DERRICK YESTERDAY? BUT MASS DIDN'T LET HER? SHE WAS SO PLANNING THIS! WTF, RIGHT? TEXT ME LATER. I HAPPENED TO SAW YOU, CAM AND HARRIS IN A CAR TOGETHER! ;D

When her watch beeped, signaling that it was three thirty, Claire sighed. "I gotta go, Harris. I have a job appointment."

"Oh. Okay, I'll drop you, then." Harris smiled quickly, not letting his disappointment show. Claire was really fun to hang out with, once you got over her random mood swings, that is. And the fact that she was a slight closet pervert, too.

"Thanks," she smiled genuinely back. _Now all I've gotta do is apologize to Cam_.

- - - - -

I seriously recommend you all to read Michael Gerber's _Freshman_. He's the dude who wrote the Harry Parodies, by the way. I'm basing my writing style on that particular book and him; he's a bloody genius.

I also would like to say HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY MEGS. Dr. Pepper's for you!

Feedback, please. I don't think it's going in a ClaireDerrick direction and, frankly, I don't want it to. DO YOU?! HUH?! YEAH?! NO?! AAAAA?!

I also abhor swearing; I just want to make it seem a tiny bit more realistic than the book. And that there will be more mentions of 'mature crap', so if you don't like it, sorry. I am 15, after all.

- - - - -


	8. Kissy

Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

After checking the clock three times, fiddling with the hem of her skirt for two and then glaring at Layne's hunched form for one, Claire finally sighed, hoping Layne would, at last, hear and then gave another sigh of relief when Layne did.

"Yes, Claire?"

"I am sad. Why do you think I am sad, Layne?"

Layne stuck out her tongue, revealing her tongue ring, and shrugged her shoulders, "How should I know? I was trying to finish an Etch-a-Sketch."

"…because I got the job…" Claire muttered, a little freaked out by the fact that Layne showed her the creepy-looking silver lightning bolt stuck in her catlike-tongue.

"Congratulations!" Layne squealed suddenly, jumping onto her zebra-striped zigzag carpet. "I knew it! Told you! So when's work? I hope it's not Saturday…"

Claire made a face. "Uh, Layne, it's _every_ Saturday…"

"Wait – _every _Saturday?"

"Yes, Layne, _every _Saturday…"

"But I wanted to check out that sci-fi convention ever – this Saturday! The one with _Warcraft _and Kirk and Trekkers and, and, and, _Claire_!" Layne wailed, stamping her shoes.

"Well…you still can – with Chris…and Harris and those frat guys you're so 'buddy-buddy' with…"

"But I wanted to go with _you_," Layne pouted, crossing her arms over her black _I'm Pink!, too: I'm not dead either_ DIY Tee.

Suddenly Claire smiled hugely, despite her post-new job sulkiness, and gave Layne a huge bear-hug.

Without lying, Claire could finally say that Layne was her one true friend at this dump. Massie and her PC could go suck it; when you had Layne, all you needed was something to laugh at and something to obsess over.

- - - - -

Massie flipped her curled hair back and stuck her hands on her hips. "How the hell can it be _my _fault? Derrick _wanted_ to make out with me! And, _please_, would _you _turn down an offer from a make-out expert?!"

"You st-st-_stopped_ me from that date with him, you slut! You _knew_ him before me! And you stopped me from what could've been perfect!" Alicia shrieked back tearfully, her tanned arms on her hips, perfectly mirroring Massie's anger. "You planed it! You just want me to be your slave! You – you – you," Alicia couldn't finish her sentence and fell down heavily on the pure white settee.

"Oh, _puh_-_lease_, spare me with your _Grey's Anatomy _drama. And, seriously, though, am I _really_ that cunning?" Massie rolled her courtesy-of-M.A.C. eyes.

"Yes," Kristen and Dylan mouthed to each other behind Massie's back.

'Yes!" Alicia shrieked again. "You're mean and controlling and you go behind your friends' back to make out with their blind dates on _E_! Oh God, you're such a…a…a _bitch_!"

Saying the word made it much more true to Alicia – the truth always hurt more in her opinion and made it a point to lie to every LBR beneath the TPC – and she promptly burst into tears (again) and stormed into the 'alpha' bathroom with heel-stomps and a door bang.

After a few moments of post-tantrum silence, "…Mass, was it really all planned?" Kristen asked quietly, noticing her leader's heaving torso and red face. "I mean, all those paparazzi people _were _there when Derrick pressed you to the tree…"

Massie mouthed two choice sharp words at her and left the dorm in her upset queen mode, her hand already reaching for her iPhone to force her parents to deliver Bean and order a new room for the dorm _now_.

Dylan got up wearily and stretched. "Attention, students, major news update; First day at UCLA: Massie cheats on Alicia and Derrick scores."

"Oh puh-lease, like _you're _any better," Kristen retorted, her arms crossed at her chest. "Everyone saw you and Josh rolling on the ground like pigs!"

Dylan's eyes widened and her hands curled into fists. "_What _did you call me?"

"PIG," Kristen said triumphantly. "Pigpigpig!" She had always had a small crush on Josh, since eleventh grade in fact, and when Dylan made out with him on the channel more important than CNN and BBC combined, Kristen couldn't invent a Kill-Dylan plan fast enough. It was simple: keep feeding Dylan Krispy Kremes until she got bulimic and then died. It was genius, genius!

Red faced, Dylan gave her the middle finger, snatched out her trusty Visa and waved it in Kristen's face. "At least I can _afford_ it, scholarship girl! Me and my _twenty-seven _credit cards!" And with that, Dylan left the dorm gracefully. Well, as gracefully as a novice-on-four-inch-heels can.

Kristen, face as shocked as paper – a total blank, repeated Massie's leaving words and stormed into the 'beta' room, fully intending on a mental-beat-up-your-body workout. She would imagine the punching bag as Dylan's stomach, of course.

- - - - -

"How was it?" Cam asked flatly, hands running through his dark hair – definite sign of frustration, Harris noticed from his favourite spot in Cam and Derrick's apartment – the fridge.

Derrick got up wobbly and then fell on the sofa violently – drinks could do that to you – "Oh _man_! Cam, you missed out _hard_! Dude, her _lips_! Wait, screw the lips – her_ tongue_!"

Cam turned green and then red. "Oh _God_. I think I'm gonna puke," his mind already turning circles thanks to Claire and Harris's flirting demonstration. And now turning squares, credit to his mental image of Derrick and Massie connected via pure, saliva-coated muscle.

"Jealous," Josh declared from his spot on an empty box near the open kitchen.

"I second that!" Derrick said after chugging back his sixth beer that night.

"Are you legal?" Harris asked mildly from the kitchen counter.

"Legally _hot_, yes!" Derrick threw the bottle in the air.

"Legal to get stoned, _no_," Cam said disgustedly, catching the bottle one-handedly.

"Let's watch a movie!"

"It's almost eleven!"

"I know!"

"We have class tomorrow!"

"I know!"

"Tell me something I don't know!"

"Argh, that Gomez song!"

"I swear, in that video, she was _so _kinky–"

"Hell no! You pedophile! She looked like a slut! I mean, _between_ the hag's _legs_?! That put me off that waitress dress forever!"

"_Ohhhh_ _God_! THANKS! The mental image is now burning my retinas out! _Thanks_, dude! _Thanks a lot_!"

"You're welcome, midget!"

"I'm not a midget! You're older than me!"

"TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW! TELL ME SOMETHING–" Harris chucked an empty cereal box at Derrick's head. "Screw you!"

Derrick grinned blearily and started shouting, "Roses are red. Violets are blue. I like spaghetti. Let's go screw!" over and over again.

"Is he drunk?" Josh asked interestedly, his arms releasing Cam from its chokehold.

Cam massaged his throat. "I sincerely hope so. I'm going to bed; you guys are idiots."

"No kidding, Inspector Gadget!" Josh shouted to his slumped, retreating figure.

Harris grinned. "By the way, nice make-out session, Hotz. _E_! covered everything. And you wanna know the headlines? _Socialites on Campus: Getting the Best UCLA Has to Offer_."

"Ha!" Josh high-fived him. Derrick stirred feebly from the floor but a cushion to his face solved his movement problem.

Few minutes of contented silence followed.

Josh broke it: "Hey, are you and Claire going out?"

"What – Cam's _copaine_? Nah, she's just fun to hang out and torture Cam with. But, hey, maybe when she's free, I'll give her a call…Why? You wanna ask her out?"

"No, Olivia says I can't date – she thinks I'll get drunk and married to another blonde in Las Vegas and then come back loaded…," Josh ignored Harris's perplexed look and continued, "It's just 'cause I saw Derrick and her today, after class, and he asked her out and everything. Even his look was excited as hell. Completely different from the _I Got Porn _look."

Harris's brain whirred into action. "Before or after _E_! invaded campus?"

"Before."

"Ouch. Wasn't Claire mad?"

"At what? Being asked out by Derrick? Hell, yes. Well…I mean…sure. Yes. Okay, so she looked tentative, but she must've been disgusted inside!"

"No, though that is more likely than what other garbage you said, I meant, is she mad at being stood up by Derrick for a nine-minute make-out session by a tree in front of cameras and Ryan Seacrest?"

"You make it sound so cheap," Josh smiled, his memory of Dylan's hands and mouth making his brain happy.

"Like hell it isn't! You were _live_ and in front of _four _teachers! And I think one of them was Dean FooFoo or something…"

After a few seconds of confuzzled silence, Harris clapped his hands together and looked at the glass clock above the doorway. "Anyway, gotta run, got some talk about psychoanalysis early in the morning. Need my buh-yooty sleep, ya know?"

"Oh, don't I know it, hon. I got a broadcast at ten-ish. About the truth behind the elusive Head Dean."

"Elusive? I'm impressed. Increasing your vocabulary, eh? I like."

"Oh stop it, you're making me blush."

"Kissykissy, Joshiecakes. Bring the stilettos tomorrow! _Byeeee_," Harris waved his hands frantically at Josh, flicked his hair back like Zac Efron – he was trying to maximize his 'supposed' homosexuality, it was a running gag between the two – and left the flat with a swish of his bum.

"Muahmuah, dahling!" Josh shouted to the closed door. "Don't forget the lipshit!"

Cam stuck his head out from his room. "Finally admitted you're gay, huh?"

"Go suck a di–" Josh tried to say but Derrick got up from the paper-strewn carpet and stuffed the pillow in his mouth. "I wasn't really drunk, you know."

"Sure, and I'm Sarah-freakin'-Palin." Josh spit the pillow out, trying to aim at Derrick's face. It landed pitifully on the floor.

"Uh, yeah, you are."

"Kiss my ass, Dumbington."

"You know you wish I could."

"I'm leaving."

"Good," Cam spoke up from his open doorway. "Please trip and break your neck on the stairs."

"Still sore over the Massie-Derrick-E!-coverage? Stupid boy. Though, you are one _bad_, Camela; still with your adoring girlfriend and horning after another girl…tsk, tsk, Cammie."

Leaving the dorm with both guys mouths' agape, Josh self-congratulated himself on a job well done. After all, he _was _a reporter on 12629…It was his job to stun morons until they couldn't be stunned anymore.

- - - - -

_We have to take our clothes off to have fun_ is basically Harris and Josh's theme song. Guess what the song and band name is and you're officially the mascot of this story… :)

Wormie, U ME 2NITE. GOOD TIME. HAHA.

Again, I based this entire FF on many, many, many ideas. If you know even one of them – example, Harris/Josh gay moment – tell all in the review you're and you're a freakin' genius, yo.


	9. Fuzzy

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

Cam sighed. Derrick now had his mobile charger, his toothbrush and his The Killers tee, along with all the stuff he stole yesterday. God only knew what he wanted to do with these.

Crossing the boxes-strewn path to freedom – or, at least, outside of this dump – and trying to avoid all the boxes labelled _DERRICK'S SHIT_, Cam first mourned the loss of his purple toothbrush. His teeth felt fuzzy. And then the loss of his mobile charger. His mobile beeped its death. And his The Killers tee. He looked like a pansy in his only remaining light blue tee.

"Oh hey, Cammy." Derrick waved from his location on the ground, trying to construct more blueprints for the house. "Make some breakfast, will ya?"

"Screw you and no."

"Fine – I'm going to Pink Elephant, then."

"I think that's a strip club, genius."

"Duh."

"Didn't you want breakfast?"

"Oh. Yeah. Okay, I'm going to McDonald's, now; wanna come?"

"First I would like my mobile charger, my toothbrush, my Killers tee and everything else you stole back. And then I'd like you to blow up."

"Oh _them_. Yeah, okay…when I find them…and the blowing up part…can I get a blow job?"

"_Derrick_!"

"Haha – that sounded like that chick show…um…Living with Derek?"

"Argh."

"You can be the chick who hates me! Or likes me…cool, you're a homo!"

"Remind me again why I'm living with you."

"No clue." Derrick focused back on his blueprints. Cam leaned over and scoffed. "We can't even _afford _a Wii and you're trying to add a hot tub?"

"So you can get laid, buddy! Win-win situation right there!"

Cam sighed again and checked his watch. "Crap, I'm gonna be late. I'm taking your shit, see ya."

"Wait – I have class too!"

The door slammed Cam's departure.

"Well, screw you, too, Ma."

- - - - -

"Hey Massie…" Claire mumbled. "Kinda early isn't it?"

"It's _ten thirty_."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Anyways, Kuh-laire, when are you coming down here?! I sent you, like, _four _texts _and _some geek to knock on your door!"

"Wait – so you were the one who sent Carrie to wake up Kris – I mean, _them_?"

"Well, it was going to be you but if it annoyed them, yay! I'm officially semi-not hating Cally!"

"Carrie."

"Whatevs. So, coming down now? I have a, ahem, _plan _I want to run through with my beta."

"I thought Ali – I mean, okay, sure. Just let me get dressed…"

"Yeah, the geek left clothes by the television. Wear them and get here ay-sap."

"Will do, General."

"I like the sound of that." And she hung up.

Claire sighed. It was lucky her class was scheduled for later in the afternoon today; she had a feeling that her rendezvous with Massie Block would drain her more than a round with fake-smiling for Cam.

- - - - -

Dylan and Alicia sat glumly under the large oak tree, picking moodily at their black attire.

"This has to be the worst second day, like, _ever_," Dylan spoke up. "The only good thing was Josh making out with me and even _he_ can't make up for a Massie-fight!"

"Agreed." Alicia nodded. "And the worst part hasn't even begun yet! Massie hasn't even made her move!"

"Like chess?"

"Yeah, but in her set, she owns all the queens."

- - - - -

Kristen, frantically looking for her Physics notebook, ran her hands through her blonde bob. "Hey, Claire?" she called towards the living room.

"Yeah?" Claire's voice sounded muffled, as though she was speaking through a wall.

"Have you seen my green notebook? You know…the one with the sparkles and the _90210_ sticker?"

"No, sorry, haven't seen it, but when I do, I'll let you know…" Claire's voice sounded hurried now.

Kristen opened the bedroom door to see Claire struggling to fit into a pair of brown Gladiator sandals. Her outfit was also very un-Claire-ish: bronze halter top and beige corduroy long shorts with long chunky square beads as a bracelet.

"Going on a safari trip to Paris?"

"Haha, very funny. Nah, it's just Mass – I mean, _Mason _who wants me to wear this for a, um, photo shoot…?"

"It's okay, I know it's Massie. But you'll let me know what she wants, right? I mean, we _are_, like, BFFs, right? Automatically makes us share our secrets? Right?"

"Uh, yeah, right. Totally…" Claire turned the other way, trying to hide her blushing face. Whenever she lied, she blushed. And today was the worst time to lie.

- - - - -

So it's a filler! So what? At least it's something!  
Yes, I fail. I know, I know.


End file.
